Bryce Canyon, August 16th 2008
It was pitch dark as I drove to Inspiration point. The parking lot was already half full. The air had a delicious nip. A faint odor of burnt wood.
The rim had two clusters of photographers. One with lenses pointing at the horizon, the other at the hoodoos to catch the magical solar angle. The man next to me groaned. He had forgotten to feed the camera with the battery he had left to charge. I felt for him. But only a little.
Nature, then, uncorked the light show. The next 15 odd minutes, the two predominant sounds were gasps and the sweet clicking of cameras.
The flash memory stored only a fraction of the experience.
